


Put A Spell On You

by colisahotnorthernmess



Category: British Comedy RPF, Never Mind the Buzzcocks RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Candles, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Loft Apartments, M/M, Massage, Sensuality, Touching, sex on the floor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 09:38:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18407981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colisahotnorthernmess/pseuds/colisahotnorthernmess
Summary: They were used to having quickies and a bit of fun here and there, but there comes a time in every couple's relationship where slowing down becomes necessary... Phill had always wanted to do it on the black lacquered floor of Mark's London loft apartment. What then came was an intense, beautiful, sexual night, by candlelight.A long time ago, a friend I worked with and still keep in touch with, said she wanted to see me write something which involved having sex on a black floor in an apartment, and also involved Mark Lamarr. This was produced in response to that request.





	Put A Spell On You

**Author's Note:**

> Old fic. Posted in 2007 to Livejournal.
> 
> *~*~*~*
> 
> Please note that this is a work of fiction involving real people written by myself - it is a completely made-up fantasy and is in no way intended to cause offence.

Mark wondered how long he could leave these before they took root to his floor, wax dribbling in between the cracks of the boards, splaying outwards as it hardened. Then he lit the fourth pale, cream candle, holding his Zippo on its side in order to catch the wick just right, the light from the existing ones shining over something which Phill had scribbled on the floor, but he couldn't make it out from this angle. He never thought he'd catch himself having to try and stay _awake_ during sex but, with the amount of incense he'd set up, he could have put a out rhino or something similar for _hours_. Pungent smoke billowed from the sweet-smelling lavender sticks, hanging over several clear shot glasses, lined with beads. It was a modern setting - a contemporary London loft apartment - plain, but with the notable absence of a woman's touch.

The place seemed unusual for Lamarr - it didn't really fit him and his _cynicisms_ \- thought Jupitus. It was adorned with those art-farty decorator's pieces that have no real significance, like dried flowers, pebbles, and water features, separated by breeze blocks - Changing Rooms style, with Carol Smillie. Who would have taken Mark for a feng shui expert? _Hardly_ \- it came with the rent of the place, and Phill knew that. He leaned over to smell the burning joss sticks. "They're _supposed_ to be romantic," he joked.

"I'm sure they are," he replied, "But do you think they're safe?"

The larger man laughed a little, looking at himself, "Yeah, like a 300 pound man lying on your floor..."

They smiled at each other before shaking out a bath towel, on which they could rest. The whole thing could have been mistaken for the setting of some kind of voodoo ritual - they were only missing the shaman, and Mark didn't feel qualified to fill those boots - even if he _had_ talked his co-star into falling for him years ago, and even _though_ there was _more_ than enough magic already in their beautiful relationship.

With oil at the ready, Mark rubbed his hands together. He really should have undone his friend's crisp white shirt first - his fingers were now so greasy that they slipped from the buttons, only further messing it up. Frustrated, he decided to pull it over Phill's head instead, abandoning it when the collar got stuck around the neck. It was a lost cause already - he wasn't even _sure_ about this - he'd rather just have a bit of a _quickie_. That was his _problem_ , and he knew it. But they'd had sex fast, and they'd had it rough - it was about time they spent a while experimenting, and getting to know each other spiritually. He couldn't give up now.

"You can't wait, can you?" Jupitus smirked, unravelling his top from around his head and tossing it onto the bed. It had to be asked why they weren't sleeping _in_ the bed, if there was indeed one _up_ here. Good question - it had been Phill's idea not to; he'd always dreamed of it on Mark's black lacquered floor - it was so sensual. And even though it could get pretty cool without blankets, he was sure that both the physical fire beside of them, _and_ the one inside their hearts, would keep them warm.

So they made love by the candlelight, and it was every bit as special as he _knew_ it would be. It started out with a simple massage to work out the knots in his upper back. But the only thing larger than Phill's waistline was his sexual appetite - his desperate need. He liked to be teased, pinched and nibbled - _anything_ to make him beg - and Mark had the technique perfected. The biting of a right ear, tugging on his earring with teeth, and pushing his tongue right through the hole. And then stopping to apply the same practice to other, more _intimate_ , areas.

"We've never taken this so far before," Phill gasped, "Carry on - I like it..." The bespectacled comedian squirted some of the liquid into his hand and began to slick his dick. Using the oil as lubricant, he prepared himself to enter the other man.

The sheet on which they were lying, put down so that their bare skin wouldn't stick to the floor, was quickly twisted beneath them - two bodies rolling about the ebony boards - shapes which shifted slowly in the shadows, by the flickering candle flames, darkly erotic. They passionately kissed, tenderly touched, and - at that point - nothing else really mattered to either of them. With one final push, Mark reached his peak, and let it go. Almost as if the gods of night were with him, aiding and assisting along the way. And there he remained for a few minutes, falling asleep, falling in _love_ , and waiting for his breath to return.

"I don't think," he told him, "That I would ever want it rough again after that." He checked to see if his lover had thought the same. Then he picked up a piece of chalk which had rolled away from them, as if taking a cigarette to enjoy after sex, and pressed it to the surface of the lacquered floor - ringing a heart around the words which he could finally read, written by Phill. 'ML 4 PJ' on what looked like a blackboard. Now he'd never forget - it was _sealed_.

 


End file.
